


hard to let go, i could teach you how

by gravitycentered



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cisswap, F/M, Face-Sitting, Gender or Sex Swap, Oral Sex, girl!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravitycentered/pseuds/gravitycentered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not particularly enthusiastic about the idea of suffocating you,” Louis informs Zayn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hard to let go, i could teach you how

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thediamondskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thediamondskies/gifts).



> FACE SITTING!!! that's the whole plot. i've been waiting for an appropriate time to use a weeknd lyric for a title. for zee's (belated) birthday :)

“I’m not particularly enthusiastic about the idea of suffocating you,” Louis informs Zayn. 

She’s already having trouble keeping her voice steady. Zayn kisses the center of her chest, teasing the neckline of her tank down lower until the edge is resting along the tops of her breasts. 

“You won’t suffocate me,” he promises, shifting down to nuzzle along underneath her shirt until the tip of his nose nudges her nipple, already hard underneath her shirt. 

Louis shivers, gasping when his chapped lips catch on her skin. “Drown, then. You might very well do that, don’t deny it.” 

It’s easy to feel Zayn’s smirk, the brief lack of contact between their bodies before he opens his mouth for her nipple, sucking sweetly, just light enough to make her whine. When he talks, it’s right against her skin, “Wouldn’t be an awful way to go. C’mon, babe.” 

“I’ll fall over,” she tries. It sounds weak even to her. Zayn slips his arm around her waist and pulls until she settles onto her side; he sucks another gentle kiss over her nipple before trailing them down over her belly, pushing her top up the lower he goes. Louis squirms when his lips touch her bare stomach, clenching her thighs together tightly to try and dull the throbbing that’s started in her clit. 

“You won’t,” Zayn replies, belatedly. “‘s like riding my prick, know you know how to do that.” 

Louis’ voice betrays her, and she whimpers under her breath before she can think to hold it back. When she looks down at Zayn he’s smiling lazily at her, like he knows he’s already won. “That’s different,” she insists, keeping her legs closed tight when Zayn’s fingers try to sneak between them. “Your prick _wants_ to drown, like, that’s its main goal.” 

“M’ tongue’s, too,” Zayn murmurs, curving his spine down to kiss along the band of her panties. Louis groans - half in frustration and half in arousal - when he succeeds in stroking a fingertip against her clit; he circles it lightly, using as much room as she’ll allow him. 

“C’mon,” he tries again, voice pitched low and inviting now. He drags his lips down to where his finger’s rubbing and kisses there instead, increasingly persistent, nuzzling up against her clit through her panties until Louis gives in and opens her legs for him. When she tries to tilt her body to lie on her back again, Zayn hooks his arm around her thigh and pulls her towards him instead, “Not like that, Lou, over me, c’mon.” 

“ _Zayn_ ,” Louis whines; she reaches down to get a grip on his hair, hiding her face in her other bent elbow. Zayn doesn’t bother with removing the barrier of her panties yet, sucking with enough pressure for her to feel it through them. She moves her hips against his mouth in tiny motions, pushing forward against his lips, and she knows she’s already plenty wet, can feel it if she shifts in just the right direction. Only seconds pass before Zayn pulls her closer again, this time slowly rolling himself onto his back as well, but Louis resists swinging her outer leg over to straddle Zayn’s face like he wants, digging her nails into his scalp instead. 

Hissing at the pain, Zayn arches his neck to lick along the crease of her thigh. He loses his patience, curling his fingers around her panties and tugging them down, “Get ‘em off, lemme see you at least, yeah?” Louis flushes at just the thought of Zayn being so close to her and paying so much _attention_ , like he always does, but she squirms around helpfully while he’s pulling her underwear off her legs, tossing them down at their feet. 

Zayn kisses the inside of her thigh and the line of her hip before settling firmly on his back, looking up at her hopefully. Louis groans again, fully out of frustration this time, and petulantly pulls Zayn’s hair. “You’re not giving it up, then?” 

“Nope,” he says. He looks more aroused than he usually does by now, his chest rising with his heavier breaths. 

“Christ,” Louis whines. She brings both hands up to her face and pushes her hair away from her forehead, clenching her thighs again before shifting up onto her knees, watching Zayn’s eyes move down between her legs as she settles over his face. 

He isn’t subtle, spreading her with his thumbs and looking his fill. Louis’ muscles clench on their own when she thinks about what he might see; Zayn swears quietly to himself, and she wonders if it’s visible how wet she is already or if he’ll have to feel it to find out. 

“C’mere, babe,” Zayn mumbles, keeping her open, still watching between her legs. He looks up to her face when she squirms, “can’t reach, I wanna taste you.” 

“God, shut up,” Louis huffs. She leans forward, putting all her weight on her hands that are braced against the mattress, and slowly spreads her thighs wider, muscles shaking already. Zayn moves his hands to her hips and helps her ease down, leaning up to meet her at first, tongue already waiting to press flat against her clit. Louis gasps in surprise and jerks her hips forward before drawing up again, away from his mouth, but Zayn tightens his grip on her. 

“Shh, c’mon,” he says, easy and coaxing, “calm down, c’mere.” Louis’ tense as Zayn pulls her back down to his mouth, but he gives her warning this time, turning his head to let his lips trail along the inside of her thigh before slowly making his way between her legs again, kissing her clit gently. It’s easier this time, and she tries to let herself relax; the position just feels _dirty_ to her, her breasts hanging heavy where she’s bent forward, nipples brushing against her top. Zayn’s hands are soothing on her body, sliding from her hips up her sides and back down, and she lets herself moan quietly when he gives her clit a soft lick. 

“Yeah, s’better,” Zayn murmurs; Louis echoes him, a quiet yeah that sounds more pleading than she expects. He hooks his fingers around where her hips bend into her thighs, lowering his head back to the mattress to encourage her to drop down even more. Louis feels flushed and hot along nearly her entire body, especially right between her legs when she gives in and inches down further, seeking out Zayn’s tongue again. With her head hanging down, it’s hard to look anywhere but his face; he looks back, fitting his lips around her clit when she reaches his mouth. Zayn sucks softly, tilting his head back more, and the first touch of his chin against her cunt makes Louis blush deeper. 

For his part, Zayn just sighs against her and closes his eyes, flexing his fingers on her hips and slipping his tongue over her clit while it’s inside his mouth. Louis gasps and digs her nails into the mattress, tempted to move a hand down to hold onto Zayn’s hair. She needs both hands for balance, though, keeping herself relaxed while Zayn pulls her down closer to him with gentle little tugs. 

Honestly, it feels nothing at all like riding his cock; Louis knows then that she can bear down with as much weight as she likes, knows that he’ll push right back up and meet her. Like this, she’s shaky and unsure of how heavily she can settle down over Zayn’s mouth, and he’s hardly giving her a chance to think it through. He keeps his tongue flat against her but slides it down from her clit until he can push the tip inside, just enough to tease. Louis moans softly and tries to roll her hips forward, wanting something deep enough to clench around, but Zayn holds her still. 

“Like that?” he asks, and Louis groans, squirming down against his lips when Zayn kisses her there, thumbs going back to holding her open so he can lick inside. His tongue isn’t particularly long, but it’s _wide_ , wide enough to drag against the tips of his own thumbs when he licks back up to her clit. 

Louis doesn’t think she really needs to answer that, but she replies anyway with a strangled curse, shifting her hips to grind against the flat of Zayn’s tongue now that his hands can’t hold her still. He moans softly against her, trailing off into a hum as he sucks a kiss over her clit. 

“Keep doing that,” Zayn mumbles, words vibrating against her, “move like that, make y’self come.” Louis’ breath leaves her in a rush and she bends closer to the mattress, elbows going momentarily weak. 

“Get your tongue out, then,” she pants; she tries for impatient, but comes out sounding desperate. Zayn obeys, sliding his hands up Louis’ belly under her top to give her free reign. 

It’s hotter than she expected it to be, moving to rub her clit against Zayn’s pliant tongue. He reaches up far enough to pinch both her nipples between his fingers, just tight enough that there’s a tug when she rolls her hips forward, shoulders pulling back. When she pushes forward far enough to get the tip of his tongue nestled inside her, Louis can feel Zayn’s nose nudging her clit; she stays like that for a moment, rocking down against the pointed end of Zayn’s tongue before she gives in, whining, “In me, put it in me deeper.” 

Zayn groans louder against her now, pinching her nipples tight. “Y’so fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, tilting his head back and slipping his tongue inside as deep as it’ll let him go. The rough drag of his stubble as he works his jaw is going to make her sore, Louis knows, but the texture compared to his smooth tongue slipping into her distracts her from the knowledge. 

“Keep your hands there,” Louis instructs, and Zayn pinches again as a reply, gentler this time. Ignoring any leftover uncertainty, Louis straightens her back to sit up and free her hands, immediately cradling Zayn’s head. He’s a bit sweaty down at the roots of his hair, and Louis can feeling his heavy breaths against her every time he pulls his tongue back to lick his lips. It becomes easier to take control of the situation, Louis finds; Zayn doesn’t protest, licking over and inside with renewed enthusiasm each time she urges herself closer to his mouth. 

The slow climb to her orgasm starts when Zayn forgets her earlier request and heads back to her clit, sucking it into his mouth with a slick sound that’s loud enough to be obscene. Louis lets her head tilt back into the feeling, the ends of her hair tickling the curve of her sweat-damp spine where her top’s bunched up. “Don’t stop,” she breathes, not even sure Zayn hears her over his own encouraging hums. The vibrations are subtle but just enough for her to rock into, twisting her fingers tight into Zayn’s hair and holding on as she moves to keep his head in place. 

Using Zayn’s mouth to actually work herself up to coming is much more like riding his cock. The motions feel the same: thighs flexing, hips tilting for the best angle, fighting to keep her balance with her attention so focused between her legs. It might even be better than riding him, with the firm suction and Zayn’s soft tongue, knowing that he’s conserving his breaths for her, wanting to make her come more than he wants anything else at the moment. Zayn’s hands have strayed down to her ribs, fingers digging in to hold onto her like she’s holding onto him, and his steadying grip along with the constant pull in her clit is what makes Louis finally lose it. She lets herself groan out loud when it first hits, grinding down hard into Zayn’s mouth, trusting him to know how much she can take while she rides it out. It becomes too intense in seconds, her sensitivity ramping up so quickly that she can’t keep up with it, but Zayn pulls his mouth away as soon as Louis whimpers, dragging his nails down her sides. 

“Fuck,” Zayn groans. He works one arm under Louis’ thigh to reach for his dick, and Louis feels his shoulder shaking underneath her right away. 

“So,” Louis says. She’s panting, still hovering over Zayn’s mouth; he’s wet down to his chin, lips parted and slick. It’s a bit of a rush to look down at him and watch his eyes open to find hers, dropping back down between her legs while he touches himself. “Think you liked that more than I did, even.” 

“Might’ve,” Zayn agrees, his voice tight. Wanting to give him a show, Louis releases her grip on Zayn’s hair to feel herself, fingers slipping down until she inches one inside, deeper and more solid than Zayn’s tongue was for her. She’s close enough that her knuckles brush Zayn’s damp chin, and he tucks his head down to kiss the backs of her fingers. 

“Don’t tease me,” he says. 

“Who’s teasing?” Louis asks, as playful as she can sound with her breath still coming too fast. Her original hesitance about the position isn’t even at the back of her mind now, not with Zayn’s chest heaving under her weight and his eyes flicking fast over her body like he isn’t sure where to look. 

“Could let me taste again,” Zayn tries, tilting his head to the side to rub his face up against her inner thigh. Louis feels his arm move quicker, like just the idea is helping to bring him off. It’s not an idea she opposes, judging from the small burst of arousal she feels when Zayn kisses her skin and licks between breaths. 

“That good, is it?” She takes in another one of her own fingers and lets them sink deeper, sensitive enough to draw a gasp from herself. Zayn doesn’t respond, just keeps his hand moving and looks up to her face, barely starting to tremble the closer he gets. 

When Louis slips her fingers out, she re-tightens her grip on Zayn’s hair, the hold she never released with her other hand. His eyes are losing focus, she thinks, trying to stay open and watch her while his body’s fighting for them to close. The sheen on his lips is only from his own tongue now, so Louis drags her fingertip along his full bottom lip and only gets halfway across his mouth before Zayn opens to suck them inside. He finally stops delaying the inevitable and shuts his eyes, and without the connection to hold her attention, Louis turns her head to look behind her. 

Having only seen his face since they started, Louis’ nearly shocked at how close Zayn is, his body language edging on desperate. His cock is flushed darkest at the head and nearly as wet as she is, a little pool of pre-come gathered on the hair of his belly from before he could touch himself, his hands busy with her. The hand not jerking himself now is gripping her thigh tightly enough to leave white indentions around his fingertips, and his toes are curled in on themselves; his whole body is wound so tightly, muscles straining. 

“C’mon, love,” Louis murmurs. Zayn sucks at her fingers sharply in response, letting them muffle any noises he makes. “Didn’t know you’d like this so much,” she says, turning back to watch his face, “next time I’ll turn round so I can suck your cock, too.” 

Much like before, just the idea is enough for Zayn; he freezes just as his orgasm starts, then moans around Louis’ fingers, mouth going slack even as his hand keeps working fast. She hooks her fingers gently over his bottom set of teeth and rubs her thumb over his jaw. Just as she’s about to contort herself enough to lean down and kiss him, Louis feels a hot splash against her back and gasps, even as Zayn’s eyes stay closed tightly. 

“Oh my god,” Louis says; she drags her fingers from Zayn’s mouth and over his chin, waiting until he opens his eyes to continue. “If you got come on my shirt, I take back that last bit.” 

Zayn’s laugh leaves him before he can help it, more of a giggle with little power behind it. “Payback,” he pants, “for being so difficult.” 

“I was thinking of _you_ in my protests,” Louis argues. 

He ignores her. “For all you didn’t wanna come up here like this you sure don’t seem to wanna move now.” 

“I know when I move we’re going to have to be, like, proactive. About cleaning up. Also I’m in a position of power like this.” 

“Are you ever not?” Zayn asks. His face is a little flushed, and the sweat she felt at his scalp earlier is visible now, along his brow especially. Louis pets his cheek, considering, and finally shrugs. 

Attempting to use this supposed position of power, Louis rises to her knees and finally pulls off her top, dropping it unceremoniously on Zayn’s head before letting out a giggle of her own. “You can do laundry today, then,” she says. 

“You can let me fuck you on the washing machine, then,” Zayn counters, mimicking her tone. He makes no move to pull the cloth from his face. 

“ _Zayn_ ,” Louis says; he shrugs animatedly, making up for the lack of visible facial expression. After a beat, she relents, “Those vibrations probably would be nice.” 

Zayn moves a hand at that, pushing her shirt up so only his forehead is hidden. “Better get the first load done before dinner, hadn’t we?” 

“The first _load_ ,” Louis says, leering spectacularly; Zayn wiggles his eyebrows and nods slowly, leering back. His eventual, exaggerated wink is what finally motivates Louis to climb off of his chest, laughing as she scrambles out of the bed. Maybe in the direction of the laundry room.


End file.
